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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268978">Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfstar_Enjoltaire/pseuds/Wolfstar_Enjoltaire'>Wolfstar_Enjoltaire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Although there's not much comfort, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enjolras POV, Eponine and Jehan are just mentioned like once each though, Grantaire pov, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, it's sad y'all</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:21:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfstar_Enjoltaire/pseuds/Wolfstar_Enjoltaire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is sober—and then he's not.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This was originally written for <a href="http://shitpostingfromthebarricade.tumblr.com">Shitposting's</a> Same Prompt Fic Challenge from 2019 (oops) but I got too nervous to post it then.</p>
<p><strong>Warnings:</strong> alcohol abuse/alcoholism, use of swear words?? I guess?? Is that a warning??</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay so the world's biggest thank you to <a href="/users/shitpostingfromthebarricade/">ShitpostingFromTheBarricade</a> for being the world's most patient beta reader. And just a best friend in general. Love you xox</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Last night I dreamt</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>That somebody loved me</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Enjolras gazed at their intertwined hands as Grantaire pulled him along their regular route home from a meeting with more of a skip in his step than usual. The man clearly had something to say, nervous energy seeming to emanate from him as he walked, but Enjolras knew better than to push the point before he was ready to share. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> "I'm six months sober today," he confessed at last, sounding both proud and a little shaky, his eyes fixed firmly on their moving feet. Enjolras stopped, pulling Grantaire to a halt with him, and stared intently at the man's face until brown eyes raised to meet his own. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> "I am so proud of you," he said, holding the gaze. When Grantaire had first decided to stop drinking, he hadn’t told anyone. Of course they'd all noticed, but they left him to tell them when he was ready. For him to tell Enjolras this, he knew, was a big deal. "Would you like to celebrate, or do you think that would be too much?"  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Grantaire looked at him as if he'd never seen someone so perfect in his whole life. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> "I love you." The man sounded somehow even more nervous at this second confession. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> "I love you too," Enjolras breathed, and in that moment he was sure he'd never been so certain about anything. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>No hope, no harm</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Just another false alarm</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras walked his usual route home from a meeting at the Musain; he liked to bitterly joke to himself that this was <em> the scenic route </em>because it took almost 10 minutes longer than the way he used to go. Anyone who knew this street knew that it was anything but scenic: graffiti littered the somehow-crumbling brick walls as paint peeled off of shop signs. It was a street completely forgotten by anyone who gave a shit, not even a working streetlight standing to grant it dignity.</p>
<p>He held his breath as he passed the local bar, the reason for his now-regular detour. Dingy and derelict, this particular building did not stand out from its surroundings. In fact, people could easily walk past without realising there was any life there at all. Not Enjolras, though: for him, this bar was a weekly destination. He peered through the window, squinting as if that could help him see through the grime, looking for a familiar silhouette. His body sagged with disappointment when he didn't recognise anyone, and he walked past the building and looked into the dark, attempting to see down the alleyway beside it. </p>
<p>There, sitting on the rain-soaked ground slumped against a wall, was the man he was looking for.</p>
<p>The pitiful man was passed out in a drunken slumber, wearing little more than a t-shirt and trousers in the cold weather, and Enjolras sighed<em> . At least there's no sign of vomit this time, </em> he thought, steeling himself for what was to come. He moved to rouse the man but stopped, noticing a bronze coin shining weakly in the dim moonlight, surrounded by the broken shards of a wine bottle. Bending down to inspect it, Enjolras pocketed the coin and turned his attention back to the man.</p>
<p>Gingerly, he shook his ex-boyfriend awake.</p>
<p>"When's this going to stop, R?" Enjolras begged as the crumpled mass frowned but stayed silent. Taking a deep breath, the sober man tried to stay calm. "Please talk to me." </p>
<p>The drunkard opened his eyes, seeming to only now register Enjolras' arrival.</p>
<p>"O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven," Grantaire recited, smiling blankly at the man above him.</p>
<p>"Please go back to AA," Enjolras pleaded softly, all the while knowing that anything he said would be wasted on ears that wouldn’t remember this conversation in the morning. The smile faded from Grantaire's face as he seemed to regain enough consciousness to remember the reason for the situation they're in.</p>
<p>"As lovely as this reunion has been,” the man spoke with a smile so forced it broke Enjolras' heart, pushing himself into a more dignified sitting position, “is there a reason you're here?"</p>
<p>"You can't sleep in an alley."</p>
<p>"Clearly I can."</p>
<p>"You're drunk. I'm not letting you sleep in an alley."</p>
<p>As if to accentuate Enjolras' point, Grantaire's arms buckled, and the man was left slouching again. Sighing in resignation, he nodded slowly. "Then I'm afraid you'll have to carry me."</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Last night I felt</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Real arms around me</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Grantaire thought the morning might be his favourite time of day: the way the sun would shine through Enjolras' messy curls, making him practically glow; how cute he looked as his eyes would open, the sleep still evident in them; the way his face seemed to light up when he saw the darker man, as if he felt the exact same way.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Okay, maybe the morning wasn't his favourite time of day, maybe waking up next to Enjolras was just his favourite thing to do. All he knew was that every time he woke up, he'd brace himself for the realisation that this had all been one beautiful dream, and every morning he'd feel the relief when Enjolras still felt solid and real even after opening his eyes. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He watched as Enjolras' eyes slowly started to open, and God it was unfair how cute he looked when he was sleepy. Grantaire took a moment to just gaze at Enjolras as he gradually woke up and smiled at him, and all Grantaire could think was how much he loved the man in front of him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> As he continued his sleepy observation, Grantaire wondered if there would ever be a day where Enjolras would seem real to him. “Turn him into stars and form a constellation in his image. His face will make the heavens so beautiful that the world will fall in love with the night and forget about the garish sun,” Grantaire recited softly as he absentmindedly stroked his fingers along Enjolras' arm.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He watched as Enjolras rolled his eyes, a flush of red on the man's cheeks giving away his true feelings. Wrapping his arms around Enjolras, he felt the man relax into him and exhale contentedly. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> "Can we stay like this forever?" </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>No hope, no harm</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Just another false alarm</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grantaire woke groggily and smiled to himself, breathing in deeply and basking in the scent of Enjolras' shampoo. Rolling over with an arm outstretched, his eyes snapped open when his hand landed on empty sheets. Reality kicked in quickly, followed by a wave of nausea.</p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p>Of course.</p>
<p>It was a dream.</p>
<p>He was gone.</p>
<p>But it had felt so real that he swore he could still smell the man. Another wave of nausea washed over him, this time accompanied by a sickening dizziness. He squeezed his eyes shut and did the stupid breathing exercises Jehan had taught him. His heart hammered painfully against his chest, and he realised with a jolt that he was hungover. </p>
<p>Fuck. </p>
<p>How did he get home? He racked his brain and drew nothing but a blank. </p>
<p>Remembering that he had plans with Éponine that day, he finally sat up and saw a bucket next to his bed. "Damn, drunk me came prepared."</p>
<p>With some effort he eventually managed to push his stiff body into a standing position, swaying for a moment before stumbling to the fridge to grab a beer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>So tell me how long</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Before</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>The last one</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Enjolras peered through the window of Grantaire’s studio and smiled at his boyfriend asleep in front of his latest project. Letting himself in, he tiptoed over to the sleeping man and gently nudged him awake. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Grantaire smiled as their eyes met. “What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,” Enjolras recited back with barely a second’s hesitation, smirking at the pure shock on his boyfriend’s face.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I’ve used that one before, haven’t I?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Maybe once or twice…” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> At this, Grantaire looked embarrassed, “What’re you doing here?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I’m taking you home.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “But I didn’t finish-” The man was cut off by an attempt to pick him up. “We both know you can’t carry me.” Enjolras did know this, and sure enough not-quite-two-seconds-later they landed in an ungraceful position on the floor, both laughing. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>And tell me how long</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Before</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>The right one</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This time he was still inside, Enjolras noted with some relief. The ring of the bell as the door was pushed open did not rouse the sleeping man, and Enjolras nodded curtly at the bartender as he walked over to ‘the best customer of the night.’ </p>
<p><em>The shitty morals</em> <em>a man must have,</em> Enjolras thought angrily<em>, to sell alcohol to someone in this state every week.</em> Shaking his head to rid himself of the sudden bout of rage, he arrived at the table and sat down next to Grantaire. It did not get easier as the weeks went by, he realised, to see someone he loved in this position. Tiredly, he rubbed his face and nudged the man's leg with his own.</p>
<p>"All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights bright days when dreams do show me thee."</p>
<p>Enjolras released a frustrated groan and placed a bottle of water on the table before turning to look at Grantaire.</p>
<p>"How can I help?"</p>
<p>"You can't."</p>
<p>"I want to."</p>
<p>"Enjolras, I'm not one of your causes. I'm not your boyfriend. Hell, I'm not even your friend. I'm a grown-ass man, and I make my own decisions."</p>
<p>Enjolras knows that Thursdays are the worst for him, that it was the one day he couldn't spend with any of his friends because they were all at his own meetings. He'd been to the Corinthe on different days and had found the absence of his ex at least slightly relieving. </p>
<p>He took a breath.  "You're right. It's not my place. I'm sorry." At this, Grantaire rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>"Why are you even here?" The voice lacked its usual bravado, as if he were too tired to put on a show anymore.</p>
<p>"I'm taking you home." Enjolras replied firmly.</p>
<p>Grantaire made a weak effort to get up, but his head landed back between his arms on the table. "Then I'm afraid you'll have to carry me." He paused for a moment before frowning. "Have we done this before?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>This story is old</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>I know</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>But it goes on</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> "Hi, I'm Grantaire, and I'm an alcoholic."  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The usual tide of 'hi's greeted him as he swallowed back the lump in his throat. Feeling his heart hammering, he raised his eyes to meet Enjolras' at the back of the room. The man's steady gaze brought Grantaire back to reality and he smiled.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> "I'm 1 year sober today. It hasn't been easy, and I know that it doesn't get easier from here. But I'm feeling really good." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> After a few more words, everyone clapped for him, and the kind-eyed man running the meeting gave him his 1-year chip. As he sat down he relaxed into his boyfriend's arms and sighed. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> "May I see?" Enjolras whispered. Grantaire nodded and handed the chip to his boyfriend gingerly. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Enjolras smiled. “You should be really proud.” </em>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>This story is old</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>I know</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>But it goes on</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He woke in a cold sweat, heart hammering. This time he knew to expect the empty bed, not that it made it hurt any less. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing until his heart began to slow slightly. Pushing himself up, he made to go grab a drink and face the day.</p>
<p>Until he saw it.</p>
<p>Reaching a shaky hand out to the nightstand, his fingers curled around the bronze coin and he closed his eyes. The words “1 year” seared into his brain, he let the wave of guilt wash over him. Let the grief wash over him. It was as if everything suddenly hit at once, he threw the coin at the wall and staggered out of the room as quickly as possible, grabbing his flask on the way out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>It goes on</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>And on…</b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ahhh this was my first fic in 9 years so I hope you like it!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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